Breach

Cold London rain fell on cold London streets, spiraled down and down before meeting callous sidewalk. Sirius Black was hunched up against it, not bothering to glance around as he wound his way home again. Everyone he passed would be positioned much the same, it didn't matter if he looked their way or not.

It must have been nearing 1:00, and he was running late compared to most evenings. Closing the pub down tonight seemed to have taken longer than usual, though the tasks had been just the same as always. Maybe he'd just been stalling. He couldn't help it if that one spot simply refused to come off the corner table, after all.

Remus' voice teased him in the back of his mind, Since when are you concerned with achieving perfect cleanliness, Padfoot, hm?

Ever since cleanliness meant delaying the walk home just a little bit longer. Nothing made any ruddy sense anymore. It was so much easier to just distract himself, instead of dealing with it. One could focus properly a stubborn spot, one could divert one's thoughts just a few moments more. But this...

He turned a street corner, only half-aware of the water that kicked up into his boots and threatened to soak him through. Remus would be asleep by now, as he'd have to be up fairly early for work at the book shop the next day. The two of them hardly seemed to see each other anymore, with their work schedules. It was almost a surprise when they ran into one another--there would be a surreal pause in which they each had to register that the other still existed.

There were times when they caught each other's eye over supper, and Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that something forbidden had taken place. He was always the first to look away.

You're being ridiculous.

Nothing's safe.

Sirius let himself into his building, allowing the voices in his mind to continue battling as he climbed the staircase. They wouldn't get anywhere, they never did. Still, shushing them simply took more energy than he had to expend.

He opened the door to their little flat, stepping instinctively over the spot in the floor that creaked. He smiled in spite of himself, remembering how many times that creak had gotten him in trouble in the past. Times when he'd snuck home tipsy with some cute young thing from the pub, back when he and Remus were almost straight out of school. Sirius crossed to the table, where a half-pot of tea was the only thing waiting up for him. He studied it for a moment, debating whether he really had the taste for tea and biscuits tonight. It held little promise of warming him, and no hope of calming his chattering brain.

He sat down at the table just the same, studying the wooden surface in a patch of moonlight that would have been dangerous just a few evenings before. There were times when living with a werewolf seemed the most natural thing in the world... yet still there were evenings when his elitist upbringing seeped into the corners of his mind, and filled him with a sort of anxiety about, well, everything. On those evenings, it was amazing how fast a little firewhiskey could snub his flames of paranoia and doubt.

Tonight, however, his usual remedy had not been successful. The walk home had left him soaked and sobered. He needed to talk, but there was no one there for him at this hour. James would be asleep by now, what with the baby keeping he and Lily so occupied. Maybe Remus wouldn't mind if I talked at him for a while--

And what do you plan to say to Remus, exactly? Hi, can we chat? I couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about how you might be the spy, seeing as I typically tell you everything I hear, and people keep on dying or disappearing. Not that I don't trust you after being your friend and flatmate for over half our lives, but I don't suppose you're in alliance with the Dark Lord, are you, Moony? No? Alright, lovely, just making sure.

Sirius let his head drop to the table with a gentle thud. It couldn't possibly be.

It makes perfect sense, and you know it does. He's lied before. Told you he was straight for all those years, didn't he?

That was different.

Do you really think so?

"I don't know," his voice was a cracked whisper. If Remus were the spy, it meant that James, Lily and Harry were in grave danger. It was supposed to be Sirius' place to protect and guard them. He had a fleeting image of himself in dog-form at James' front door, snarling dangerously as horror approached. It wasn't too far from the truth, in a way.

Do what you have to.

Rising from his seat took more energy than it should have. Sirius crept silently to Remus' bedroom door, cracking it open just enough to look inside. His flatmate's room looked tidy as usual, except for a few piles of books and things in the corners. Remus' lean form rose and fell gently in the evening light. The room was cool, yet his covers had been thrown aside. For a moment Padfoot considered covering him, before he thought better of it. There was no sense in disturbing a man who slept little enough nowadays as it was. None of his friends really slept properly anymore.

He closed the door over gently, and walked down to his own room. "Lumos," there were some clothes thrown around, draped over his chair and bed. In plain sight on the desk was a pile of paperwork--maps, plans, rumors he'd overheard while pouring drinks for Deatheaters who couldn't hold their liquor as well as they'd thought.

He has access to all of this. He could have been using you all along, biding his time.

Not Remus. Anyone but him.

Sirius threw his coat onto its hook absentmindedly, and stood still for a moment, contemplating what to do next. The pile of clothes at the foot of his bed demanded to be put away. He took his arm and swept them onto the floor in one neat motion, before falling into the mattress with a groan. The white ceiling glared down at Sirius Black in a test of wills. He covered his face with his hands, as if to make sure his features were still there.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?!" the demand echoed in an empty room, with nothing else sounding but the tapping of rain on windowpane. Actually, it was extremely persistent, noisy rain. Sirius dropped his hands and looked toward the window, to find a drenched brown owl frantically begging to be admitted. He crossed to the messenger and allowed it inside, where it immediately perched near the muggle-heating system that seemed to be in constant need of repair. Padfoot removed a tiny strip of parchment from the bird's leg, ignoring the annoyed glare that clearly stated, this had better have been important.

Hey Siri--

Peter

Sirius pulled a hand back through his hair, and a few renegade raindrops escaped their hiding place. It was a dreadful evening out, but almost anything was better than staying here tonight. He retrieved an owl treat from the desk, and sent Wormtail's messenger back on her way. Remus wouldn't be up until the morning, would never know that Sirius had been away.

He strode from his bedroom, grabbing the keys to his motorbike from the dresser as he left. It was a risky night to be flying, and Sirius Black did not particularly care. It was an evening for taking risks.